January 1, 2013
Clint-
2013 is apparently supposed to be a happy year, now that we've all survived the apocalypse and shit. We can focus on moving forward, right?
It doesn't feel that happy to me.
At least I didn't have to go to Tony's goddamn party. It's a wonder he managed to run the company for as long as he did without seriously fucking some stuff up.
-Nat
January 7, 2013
Clint-
They say my back is improving, if you care even a little.
-Nat
January 9, 2013
Clint-
Do you miss me, wherever you are?
-Nat
January 9, 2013
Clint-
You probably don't. Having way too much fun being the main man for once, not having to sit in the shadows and watch me do all the work.
-Nat
January 9, 2013
Clint-
I hope you don't have to do drastic acting to play mind games with whoever you're screwing over.
You're a shit actor, as I've told you before. Never can keep that cheeky smile off your face. The thugs and warlords aren't fond of cheeky smiles.
-Nat
January 10, 2013
Clint-
James Idian stopped by today to say…I don't know. Goodbye? Hello? Do I even care? He's off to Singapore for some recon/surveillance exercise that has to do with drug trafficking.
Reminds me of the first Batman movie, but that could just be because I watched it recently.
I don't know why he had to tell me this, but whatever appeases those who still have souls. Not like I could run away or anything.
-Nat
January 21, 2013
Clint-
Do you ever wish you could just forget?
Like you woke up one day and found out it was all just one really bad dream, and you were still six years old, your whole life waiting.
Banner said yes.
Steve said no- he's learned too many valuable things from being Captain America.
Tony just wishes he hadn't yelled at his dad before he died.
Thor said yes because he believes things could have turned out differently between him and Loki, but also no since he then never would have met us, or this Jane Foster whom we've never met.
This is what happens when everyone plays a game of "Let's get booze and bother Natasha." Stark gets philosophical when he's really drunk, and he asks this question: What is your biggest regret. And the follow up? Would you give up what you have to start over.
Now they're all mostly passed out on the floor of my room. Well, Steve's not. He can't get drunk, so he's just staring at the wall and pretending he doesn't know I'm awake. Thor's not even drunk, but after Tony passed out, he probably thought it was some weird Midguard thing and just did the same. Banner is slumped over in the chair. He snores.
And me? Well, I don't get drunk. You know that, but no one else does.
I know your answer. Your biggest regret is your brother, and not being able to save him. Would you start over? No. You wouldn't give any of these people a reason either; you'd just say no and stare at them until they moved on because they don't know shit about you or us or why you would rather live with the horrors than forget everything that made you who you are.
I don't regret much. I mean, sure, maybe if my parents hadn't died in the fire, I wouldn't have been enslaved as a KGB child robot murderer at the age of nine. I wouldn't have a ledger threatening to burst. But if none of that had happened, I wouldn't have been the Black Widow. You never would've spared my life, and we wouldn't be here ten years later. Figuratively speaking.
I don't believe in destiny or fate or any of that shit. Someone else was pulling the strings until I broke free.
But, in case you were wondering, I wouldn't trade the last ten years for anything.
You probably already knew that.
-Nat
January 22, 2013
Clint-
Tony is a really awful hungover person. He just snaps at everyone a lot. Banner hasn't left his room. Thor is making poptarts, and Steve says he's helping but I don't think he understands Tony's toaster either.
Apparently it's our fault he's this way, because we didn't stop him, as we were told by Pepper this morning. Steve apologized but I just shrugged my shoulders and told her I wasn't even sure what number we were one. I don't get drunk very easily, so I don't count. So technically, it's all still Tony's fault.
Slow clap for function-enhancing alcohol repressors.
-Nat
January 27, 2013
Clint-
I miss you, you know.
Mostly at night. How many times do I have to watch you die anyway? But of course, this is normal. Happens a lot. I wake up alone, and have a moment of panic followed by a moment of calm because, hey, you're just across the hall, probably doing the same thing.
Except you're not. And the panic comes back. I don't know where you are. You could very well be dead or dying or seriously injured and I can't do anything about it.
I think that's what kills me the most. You've been gone for long periods of time before. Before all the Loki-take-over-the-world shit, you were at the SHIELD base for a good five months. But I was also off in Austria, and then Russia, collecting stories to tell you when we both got back. Now I'm just here, sitting around and waiting. My mind has too much free time to think about things I don't want to think about. They only lead to more nightmares
I hate waiting.
Before now I thought I just missed having you here to, well be here. To make it all go away like you're so good at, so we can get back into our routine of shutting out the world. But I think it's more than that. I don't just miss you. I miss your laugh, and how you hug me even when I tell you not to. How you always know what to say, and the way you never dance around my feelings because I'm not fragile, dammit, like everyone seems to think I am. You have this way of saying exactly what you mean when you need to that no one else seems to be able to do around me. I miss having someone to talk to.
And I really miss having you here. Even when you're super pissed at me, you bring this air of safety. I don't need protecting, but sometimes it's nice to know there's someone there when you need them.
I miss you, Clint. Yes, I said it. I'm practically compromising myself but who really gives a shit anyway?
I miss my partner.
I miss my best friend.
-Nat
January 29, 2013
Clint-
It's snowed for three days straight now. Not much, just that light rain snow that makes everything super miserable and gray and cold. So damn cold.
No one is very good at making hot chocolate, but then again- they are being compared to the best. Steve is decent, so he's been promoted, according to Tony.
The whole team ate breakfast on the floor of my room. It's the first time in a few days we've all been here, Pepper included, so apparently that makes it Bug Natasha Really Early in the Morning Day. Tony was in Malibu. Banner just got back from…somewhere. Thor is staying for a few more days before he flies over to New Mexico to spend the rest of his time on Earth with "Lady Jane" and "Friend Darcy, Keeper of Pop Tarts." I blame this Darcy chick for his weird obsession. Nobody else here even likes pop tarts.
Steve made waffles and we watched Ferris Bueller's Day Off, since Steve hasn't seen that either and Banner and Tony agreed it was necessary.
This was one of the first movies you made me watch with you, way back when we were still living on the helicarrier and getting yelled at by Coulson for every tiny thing that happened. That air vent exploded? Barton and Romanoff. Paintballs covering the hallway? Barton and Romanoff. The tables are missing? Barton and Romanoff. Junior Agents are hiding? Barton and Romanoff.
Remember the time the washer backed up and flooded the whole floor of the ship and Coulson came straight for us and we swore it wasn't actually our fault, and we didn't think it was, but in the end it ended up being our laundry from the previous day's paintball war that was being washed? Fury was so pissed.
We built a fort in the meeting room once, too. How much hell we must've given Coulson, acting like five year olds.
Twenty bucks says Stark pulled a Ferris Bueller every other day of the week back when he was in school. I wouldn't put it past a twelve year old to skip class and steal a car.
Then of course, after the first round of waffles, Thor was still hungry so Pepper made more and we watched one of the Indiana Jones movies. I don't remember which, I fell asleep about halfway through and woke up with my face covered in whip cream.
They're assholes, the whole lot of them.
-Nat
January 30, 2013
Clint-
Fury called me into his office this morning. He sent someone to pick me up and I had to sit in a wheelchair and everyone had those pitying stares again.
I brought my gun with me this time, sitting loaded on my lap. That sure wiped the sad smiles off their faces.
Maria told me I'm insane.
Only a little, darling. Only a little.
I was seriously hoping he was telling me my medical leave was being cut short because of how already and totally healed my back is and all that, but he didn't. Much to my dismay, he was simply letting me know that in addition to a physical examination, I was going to have to pass a mental test too.
Oh joy.
Have you ever had one of these? Who am I kidding, we all have. Fury says min are different though.
In order to pass my personalized mental test, I have to have a recorded amount of eight uninterrupted hours of sleep for two nights in a row and they do a bunch of weird shit with monitors and screw with my head some more.
It's like fucking therapy all over again.
-Nat
January 30, 2013
Clint-
28 more days of this torture and I'm free at last.
-Nat
January 30, 2013
Clint-
What will they do if I don't pass the mental examination?
Shit, Clint. I'm not going to pass. Even assassins can't lie to brain monitors. I'll be put on probation until my sleep patterns return to normal.
I haven't slept more than 3 hours a night in seven weeks, Clint.
So basically I'm screwed.
-Nat
January 30, 2013
Clint-
It only leaves one question to wonder: who tipped them off? SHIELD never would have requested a mental exam if someone hadn't told them I needed to be monitored.
I don't need to be monitored. I need to go back to work to take my mind off everything else.
There's nothing fucking wrong with me.
-Nat
January 30, 2013
Clint-
Right?
There isn't.
-Nat
January 31, 2013
Clint-
It's almost three a.m.
I just watched you die for the eighth time this week.
It's only Thursday.
Thursday. I didn't even make it three hours.
Thursday. I have a check-up for my back at ten.
Thursday, January thirty first, two thousand thirteen.
…
Have you ever had them come out of your nightmares? Sat with your eyes open and watched the flames grow closer and the men without eyes take steps towards you one by one?
When I'm awake I can hear them breathing. I can see them, the group of people who've died because of me. Coulson is in front.
Coulson.
He whispers my name and there's blood all down his face. Natasha Natasha Natasha. Over and over and over.
There's people behind him, others I recognize. SHIELD agents, all dead. A few random people who are just blurry faceless figures.
A nine year old boy.
When I close my eyes, I'm chained to a wall. There's a window, and on the other side you're in a chair. Tied to a chair, with a bomb strapped to your chest. And I can hear myself screaming but the only thing I see is those red numbers ticking down.
With ten seconds left, you always look up. You look up and you stare right into my eyes and you mouth something. But before you finish, the bomb goes off and I wake up surrounded by people who are dead and no way out.
You don't always explode. Sometimes I have to watch you bleed to death just out of my reach. I'm always chained to a wall. I suppose that's supposed to mean something, some unconscious sign telling me that I'm weak and helpless.
I'm not. Or I shouldn't be.
-Nat
January 31, 2013
Clint-
Thursday, January thirty first, two thousand and twelve.
Thursday.
Seven bullet holes make a square across my ceiling.
Seven. Seven holes, seven seven seven. The gun went off like bang bang bang.
Everything hurts and it feels heavy and there's these voices just talking and talking but they don't say anything but my name over and over. One of them sounds like you, but I don't know. How long does it take to forget what someone's voice sounds like?
-Nat